


Veridian

by thefinalqueerfrontier (AlbionRaine)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, But it's incredibly vague, Emotional Spock, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Movie: Star Trek Generations (1994), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlbionRaine/pseuds/thefinalqueerfrontier
Summary: Even displaced out of time, Spock still has to deal with the grief he carries for his Kirk.





	Veridian

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched Generations for the first time, and pretty much immediately sat down to write this. I started at about 2am and it's now 5am when I'm posting this.  
> Full disclosure, I haven't seen any of aos after the 2009 movie, so I'm just making shit up with what that universe is like.

Regret is an illogical thing, _kaiidth_ , what is, is. The past cannot, except under highly improbable circumstances, be changed. All that can be done is to learn to live with the things that have happened, the things you have done. Or rather, not done. To make the best of what is left as you move on with your life.  
And yet Spock can't help but feel overwhelmed with regret as he sits in his makeshift home on New Vulcan. He had intended to meditate, but that had quickly proved a fruitless endeavour. Keeping his emotions in check had been getting progressively harder over the last week. And as the anniversary of that day continues to draw nearer it will only get harder.  
Harder for him to remain uncompromised, harder to conduct himself properly among other Vulcans, and harder to fulfill his duties towards the establishment of the new colony.  
He sits there, on his meditation mat although he has given up on meditating, for what seems like hours. His mind floating in a place that isn't mediation, but isn't really anything else either. Unable to come to grips with the sheer force of the regret, guilt, and grief that tugs at him.

\---

“I'm sorry to bother you, Ambassador, I'm sure you must be busy.” Captain Picard's voice came through slightly tinny, and Spock could see clear signs of exhaustion and grief on the man's face in the viewscreen.  
“It is of no consequence, I am not long from completing my stay on Romulus and so find myself with little to do.” Spock admitted, glad of the distraction. It wasn't until he started living among Romulans that he came to truly appreciate just how used to Humans he had become, “Was there something I could assist you with?”  
“I have bad news I'm afraid. It's hard to explain, and rather a long story.”  
“I have time.” Spock said simply, curious as to what had caused Picard to search him out.

\---

It has been nearly 17 years since Captain Kirk, his T’hy'la, had gone from killed in an accident aboard the Enterprise B with no body found, to killed and buried on Veridian III. When Picard had given him the news, Spock had dropped everything to go to Veridian III, to visit the grave. Picard had come with him, and told him all about the Nexxus, about Kirk's battle with Soren, and how he had died.  
Every year since then he had returned on the anniversary of Kirk's death, or as near to it as he could possibly manage. He would stand for hours next to the stone topped grave, relaying to the open air what had transpired since he had last visited. Perhaps it was overly emotional and illogical, but he found that it brought him a strange sense of peace that he couldn't find elsewhere.  
But now, there would be no grave to visit. For the first time in 95 years he could speak to James Kirk whenever he wished. Technically. And that fact only served to heighten his grief.

\---

Spock collapsed to the ground as soon as Picard left. He couldn't, _wouldn't_ , stop the the emotions that poured out with his tears. He knelt beside the pile of stones that covered Kirk's body, shaking uncontrollably as he wept.  
“Captain, Jim, T’hy'la,” the words tumbled unbidden from trembling lips, “My ashaya, I should have looked for you. I should not have given up, I should have searched for you, as you did for me.”

\--

Slowly, Spock stands, using the motion as a focus to pull his emotions back inwards. To bring his mental shields back up, shaky though they are.  
He takes a moment to breathe, still fighting himself over the decision he has come to. Before finally he activates his computer terminal and goes to sit before it.

“Ambassador.” The young Spock greets, his surprise at the call betrayed only by a long blink.  
“I have a request to make of you.”

\---

“Red matter is a highly fascinating discovery, Ashayam, although practical uses for it have yet to be conceived.” Spock spoke at length about the potential scientific merits of the substance as he cleared the area surrounding Kirk's grave of debris, and replaced the stones that had been shifted by storms and wildlife.

\---

It is a strange thing, to be aboard the Enterprise again, it is not quite how he remembers it, and yet it is also exactly the same. He considers asking for a tour, or conducting himself on one. But that would inevitably lead him towards the bridge. Towards Kirk. And Spock doesn't know if his tentative control would cope with that.  
They have a four day journey ahead of them to Veridian III, plenty of time for him to become acquainted with this Enterprise should he so choose. Or, as is far more likely, for him to seclude himself in his room with only his thoughts for company.

\---

Spock stood by Kirk's grave, not speaking for he had run out of things to say a while ago, he knew he should leave, the ship that was picking him up was scheduled to rendevouz with his shuttle soon. But he found himself, as always, unwilling to leave the grave site. Unwilling to go back to a reality where his T’hy'la had died not knowing how cherished he was.

\---

Spock walks ahead, his pace fast but measured, he can hear the young Kirk muttering to his first officer and pushes back the emotion that rises at the sound.  
Spock climbs the hill that in his time housed the two stone covered graves, his footing sure in a way that only comes from his yearly visits to this place.  
He stops still when he reaches the top, completely untouched and unmarked. He expected this, he knew, logically, that it had to be like this. And yet he was still completely unprepared.  
He doesn't fall to his knees, doesn't break down, doesn't start crying. To an outside observer he would look just the same as always, emotionless. And for once that's what he truly is. Completely emotionless. Empty. Numb. He knows that this shouldn't change anything, that he needs to move on with his life. That this yearly pilgrimage was an illogical indulgence of emotions. And yet.

He's unsure just how long he stands there, staring at the bare patch of ground that he has been visiting for the last 17 years. The young Kirk and Spock are waiting for him at the bottom of the hill, and he knows he should join them and return to the Enterprise. They weren't even supposed to be in the Veridian system, they don't have time to waste, but he can't bring himself to leave. He considers telling them to go without him, to leave him here where his beloved was buried. Is there really any reason for him not to stay? He had kept himself going because he knew that was what Jim would want, would expect, of him, because he could not willingly deny Jim anything, even in death. But now his T’hy’la was not dead, but also could never be his, creating a purgatory of vicariously living through his younger counterpart. It isn't sustainable. Yes, it would be far easier, far better, more logical, to just remain here. To stop fighting. To let go. To join his T’hy'la.

There is a rustling behind him. Spock doesn't react, there are only two others on this planet with him. And he doesn't wish to speak with them yet.  
The rustling comes again, and soft footsteps approach slowly, tentatively. Then he hears a voice, a voice that is so painfully familiar. A voice that should not be here, that belongs nearly a century into his past. Soft, hopeful, and filled with awe.  
“Spock”


End file.
